


Aunt May and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by pocket_sieve



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, everyone deserves a beer, ned is a sunshine boy, peter continues to worry aunt may into an early grave
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-07
Updated: 2018-05-07
Packaged: 2019-05-03 01:37:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14558028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pocket_sieve/pseuds/pocket_sieve
Summary: The world is ending (again) and Peter is late for curfew (again)





	Aunt May and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

The doorbell had given May hope - until she remembered that Peter didn’t need to ring the doorbell of his own home. Not when he had a key, and not when he could just as easily slip in (almost) unnoticed through his own bedroom window. 

Instead of her nephew, bright-eyed with the million dollar smile, she found Ned Leeds shifting nervously on her front stoop, back lighted by a maddening city and darkening sky. 

“Hey Mrs.Parker, how you been?” He says through gritted teeth and a shaky grin. “I…uh…was wondering if I could use your bathroom?”

May doesn’t hesitate as she grabs Ned by the shoulder, dragging him in and shutting the door behind them. “Thank god you’re alright,” She exhales, finally letting the words out after hours of holding them in. They were obviously meant for someone else, but she would happily repeat them a thousand times if it made them true. 

“Ned, where’s Peter!?”  It’s a stupid question, May knows. There is only one place he could be. She just needs to look out a window or turn on the news for an answer. “I’ve been calling him and calling him, but it keeps going to voicemail!” 

“Fu – shi – oh hell, Mrs.P I don’t think I’m the guy you should be asking!” 

No. He was. They had gone on the same field trip. Would of been on that field trip when a god damn alien ship  _parked itself over **fucking**  New York City_. 

Taking a deep breath, May pushed a nervous hand through her quickly graying hairline. 

But he also wasn’t. If had been hours since then, and while the dirt and large rip in his pant’s leg said he had been somewhere in the middle of this whole mess, that didn’t necessarily mean he was involved either. 

For one, why wasn’t Ned at home with his own family. “Did the school release you?”

“Huh…oh yeah…about that… see they were evacuating us out of the borough, following that new emergency plan and all, saying something about calling our parents when everyone was safe, and I kind of…” 

“Escaped?” 

“Escaped.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “When I found out the subways were closed, I caught an uber but only had like, ten dollars and a zelda sticker.”

Of course. He must of ran as far as he could, before finding himself here. Looking down, May noticed that the rip in his pants just above his ankle was spatted with fresh blood. “Sit, sit down, I’ll get you a glass of water.” 

Doing as he was told, Ned limped into the kitchen and sank into a chair. “Can you make that a soda, Mrs.P?” 

“Coke zero?” He scrunched up his face. “Sprite it is, then.”

“Hell yeah.”  He said, taking the can, guzzling it down like a fish in the desert.

May hesitated, before giving in and taking a beer stashed away in the back of the fridge hidden between week old Turkish take-out and the family sized mayonnaise. 

It’s not like she thought Peter would find her little stash and have a party or something equally as crazy, but then again, May also never would of believed he was swinging from the rooftops and punching out criminals on school nights.

So there was that. 

Taking the new first aid kit out of the cabinet - the old one was still in the bathroom, and she had forced Peter into keeping another in his backpack at all times - she took a look at Ned’s leg. 

When he opened his mouth to protest, she glared up and he closed his jaw with a clack of teeth and a quickly mumbled  _‘sorry for bleeding all over the place.’_

Luckily, it wasn’t anything that a spray of neosporin and a big enough band-aide couldn’t fix. 

“Ned, I’m going to call your parents and let them know you’re alright.” Because right now, she didn’t even need to imagine the panic they were going through. May’s chest was tight with terrible worry, her stomach twisted into knots, and it took all her willpower to keep the worst of the images -  _Peter trapped under a building, broken, bloody and crying and terrified and alone_  - her brain was conjuring at bay. 

She took a long drink of her beer.

“T-thank you Mrs.P,” Ned said, fidgeting in his seat. “Would it be okay if I…”

“You know he wound’t mind.” And May pointed a thumb down the hall. “Do you want to talk to your parents-” But he was already gone, the sound of Peter’s bedroom door opening and closing threatening to trick her again. 

Taking a breath, she called up the contact on her phone. 

“May! Do you know where Ned -”

“I’ve got him Franny. Don’t worry, he’s safe with me.”

 

* * *

 

The talk on the phone had taken longer than May had expected, almost an hour, Ned making a short appearance for a few minutes to talk to his moms before vanishing again, but she understood why. When the school had finally called Fran Leeds, saying they had  _lost her son,_ she had had a panic attack as her wife called every hospital and shelter within the city.

When May asked why they hadn’t just called her first, seeing as Peter lived over their house as much as Ned lived here, the silence on the other end had her stifling a welcomed laugh. 

“We uh … we might have missed a few rungs on the common sense ladder there, May-may.” 

Like she said. Perfectly understandable. 

When they were assured, and assured again that Ned was fine, they all agreed it’d be best for him to stay the night, and that they would pick him up in the morning when and if the roads were clear of traffic. 

Finishing off her second beer (she had more than earned it), May put away the first aid and headed down the hall to check in on Ned. 

He was being quiet, a trait he was definitely not known for, and the silence was poking at that maternal instinct that had awakened, to May’s surprise, within her over a decade back, when a screaming, confused messy haired and wide eyed toddler had struggled against her embrace, rain falling as they lowered a pair of empty boxes into the wet, cold ground. 

May stopped mid-step, shaking the unwelcomed scene from her head. The last thing she needed right now was the haunting memory of her sister’s secrets and the horrible price they had paid for keeping them.

The price they had kept paying. Would keep paying.

Perhaps secrets ran in the family. Apart of that good old Parker charm. Hell, maybe it was finally time she told Peter she was dating again…

On second thought,  _maybe_  the beers were a mistake.

Knocking, she leaned into the door. “Ned, I’m gonna put in a veggie pizza, would you like -” 

Oh. She could hear crying. 

“No - no thank you Mrs.Parker. I’m f-fine.” 

No he wasn’t. Gently pushing the door open, she could see that his face was red and puffy, his sleeves wet from wiping at his eyes and nose. Crossing the room, she sat down next to him on Peter’s bed. “Ned honey, what’s wrong?” 

Another dumb, idiotic question. She was two for two today. 

“It’s all my – if I hadn't gone and said – I didn’t even stop and think…”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, May gave him the time he needed to untangle his thoughts. If had been a long, long day for the both of them, and Ned had been the one running down streets, dodging panicking new-yorkers as everyone held their breath, afraid they were going to relive the events of six years ago. 

A few minutes of quiet wasn’t going to kill them now.

“I’m s-sorry Mrs.P…”

“May. You can call me May, Ned. God knows, you’re practically my second son.”

Her second son. If she had a second one, then where in hell’s fiery ass was her first. When Peter got home - and he would come home because he always, always did - he was so _very_ grounded. 

“I’m sorry M-May…this is all my….all my fault!” Ned cried, fresh tears bubbling up and over as the damn broke again. He rubbed at his eyes, shuddering as he curled in on himself.

This was wrong. Ned was a sunshine boy. A bright and happy teenager who always showed up at the right moment, if not always with the right words, with a quick quip and a belly full of laughter.

And while a part of her was still upset, maybe jealous even, that he hadn’t told her about being Peter’s confidant, or about her nephew's secret double life, she owed Ned a great deal for looking out for him, for having his back, and being there when Peter needed a good friend. 

Ned was family, and May hated seeing her family cry. 

“Oh - oh Ned, this wasn’t your fault,” She said, wrapping her arms around him. He was as scared and as terrified as any sixteen-year old should be when faced with an unknown future, May barely holding herself together with a haft a dozen cups of burnt coffee, two cheap beers, bubblegum and rubber-bands.

Despite everything that had happened in the last year, he and Peter were still children - children dragged into a world by adults who should of known better - and it was unfair that they were having their fleeting childhoods stolen from them, even if the good they did outweighed the evil they fought. 

“It’s okay Ned, everything is going to be -” And one second, she is holding her nephew's best friend, trying to comfort him with words she can only hope are true, letting him cry out his worries and fears surrounded by piles of legos and comics and the next, she feels him slipping between her fingers like sand in a broken hour glass.  

Her arms collapse inward, filling the empty void of where a young innocent boy had been sitting mere moments ago. She slowly turns her shaking hands upward and stares wide eyed at them as the dust settles in her lifelines and underneath the faded gold of her wedding ring. 

When – when had she put that back on?

Gazing down, May sees the fresh pile of ash sitting atop Peter’s Star Wars comforter, silent as the dead over a background of tie fighters and star destroyers.  

She stands, more dust falling from her lap and trailing behind her as she stumbles out of the room and back into the kitchen. She reaches for the faucet, realizes what she’s about to do, and crashes against the counter with her hands held at a distance. 

Sliding down, she sits on the cold tile for what feels likes hours, choking on her sobs with a name burning in her throat.

 _Peter_.  _PETER._  

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Aunt May is Peter's maternal aunt despite what anyone says.  
> 2\. Ned has two (three?) moms now.  
> 3\. Having you wisdom teeth removed apparently turns you evil and inspires you to write horrible fanfiction, taking your pain out on characters who don't deserve it.
> 
> I should be sorry,  
> I'm not sorry.


End file.
